Don't Mention the Fallen
by Peeta Melark
Summary: Percy Jackson and his friends are hunters. Most have been since they were twelve or so years old, like Percy, who has been hunting for ten years. They have one rule: When someone gets lost or killed, everyone stops talking about them. But sometimes the past doesn't stay past, and the lost don't stay lost.
1. Chapter 1

People never knew when to stay away from dark, deserted alleys. Of course, most people thought the most dangerous thing lurking in an alley was a particularly large rat or a human being looking for their wallet. They had no idea what _really_ caused those bite marks, those sudden disappearances. If they did, they would probably run screaming. That was just the way people were. Unless, of course, they were raised into the life of knowing what was out there in the dark. Those kinds of people knew _exactly_ what they were up against and exactly how to prevent it from getting into their homes, or worse, their minds.

Percy Jackson was one of those people. He had been ever since one of those _things_ had taken his mother when he was twelve years old. He had searched everywhere until he found a group of kids with his own ambitions, and they had trained together for years. Ten years later, they were still together, though a little worse for wear. They had broken their biggest vow a few times over, which was to never let each other down. There had been a few casualties, but they didn't talk about them. It was almost like those people had never existed at all. They had a new vow—_If you don't mention the fallen, I won't mention the fallen_. And Percy was fine with that. He preferred not to think about the lives they had lost to fates even worse than death, and he knew the others seconded him on that.

This time, they were hunting a demon that was wreaking havoc across a small college town. Every murder was the same, signed with the Greek letters N.d.A, always with the same capitalization, the same handwriting. Percy didn't think he wanted to find out what that meant, especially since… this was where his friend had disappeared two years ago, during his freshman year of college. Percy wasn't sure he was ready to face those demons yet. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready.

"Ready to go, Percy?" Annabeth asked, touching his arm lightly. Percy nodded.

"Yeah. Let's get this over with." He smiled at her, trying to convince himself. "It'll be great."

Annabeth returned the smile reluctantly, but her eyes were, as usual, worried and lost in thought. "Just down the road… That's where they found the latest victim. We'll just pop in and ask them a few questions, figure out where the demon is, exorcize or kill it, and get the heck out of here."

Percy shivered as he gazed out at the grey streets and grey buildings. They weren't _really_ that drab, but after everything that had happened there, they looked it. It was funny how bad memories could really sap the life and color right out of a place, just like that.

At the crime scene, Annabeth pulled out her fake badge and started asking questions immediately. She remained perfectly calm and collected the whole time, even when she got to the Greek letters painted on the wall in blood red paint. N.d.A. Always the same letters. N.d.A. Percy followed her closely, checking for sulfur and other signs of demonic activity. When he caught up, he leaned over and whispered, "Anything yet?"

Annabeth nodded. "Sulfur, demonic energy, all kinds of stuff. And the letters… This is obviously _him_."

"Annabeth…"

"Yeah, all right, fine. Fine. We don't talk about them, and I get it. But we're going to end this now. Okay?"

Percy bit back a harsh retort. He knew Annabeth felt what he felt, so what was the point of making things worse? It wasn't any easier for her to be there. He was being selfish again, and he knew it. So he pulled out his phone and took a picture of the wall instead. The Greek letters N.d.A stared back at him. N.δ.A. Percy sighed and blinked tears out of his eyes. This just wasn't fair.

"A lot of you guys coming through here, huh?" said one of the officers, a tall woman with blonde hair and a scar above her eyebrow. Percy frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"She wasn't one of yours?"

"Who wasn't?"

"That girl who came through here earlier. Black hair, slim, lots of freckles, blue eyes. Agent Knox, perhaps?"

Agent Knox was Thalia's favorite alias. Percy smiled. So Thalia was at the scene, then.

"How long ago was that, ma'am?" Percy asked, trying to be as polite as possible. The officer nodded agreeably.

"Just earlier this morning, Agent. I'm Gretel, by the way. Gretel Jones."

Percy nearly slapped his forehead before remembering that a real FBI agent probably wouldn't do that in the middle of a crime scene. Instead, he took a deep, apologetic breath and said, "I'm sorry; I should have asked. Nice to meet you, Ms. Jones."

Gretel Jones waved dismissively and pointed towards the letters on the wall. "Any idea what that is?"

"Unfortunately, yes, we have a few ideas."

"Care to tell me?"

"Afraid I can't, ma'am, but I'll update you as soon as I can. And that's a promise."

He didn't wait for her reply. When he found Annabeth again, she was already packing up her things, ready to leave at a moment's notice. Percy put his hand on her elbow.

"It's him?"

Annabeth nodded. "It's definitely him."

"Then let's get back to the others. We'll need backup."

~O~O~O~O~

They drove back to their base—Thalia and Jason's house—in silence. Once the gates came into view, Annabeth switched on the radio. Classical music flooded the air, soft and sweet. Percy rolled his head back and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes drooping shut. It had been a long day, he thought, and he couldn't wait to have dinner and get to sleep. The last thing he needed was a meeting, where he and Annabeth would have to break the news to the rest of the group. He suspected Thalia and Jason already knew, since Thalia would tell her brother everything, but he couldn't imagine they would break the news to Hazel. Hazel hadn't been herself lately, and he knew Thalia wouldn't try her patience.

"You're home!" Jason cried, throwing his arms around Percy the second he and Annabeth walked through the door. Percy laughed.

"Hey, man. Good to see you, too."

"Any news?"

"Yeah. Lots. We've got a definite suspect, and let me say it does _not_ look pretty."

"You saw the writing?"

"Yeah."

"And it's definitely his?"

"No doubt about it. Remember those other murders, two years ago when he first…?" Percy trailed off, unable to finish the thought. But Jason understood perfectly, as any one of them would have.

"They died the same way, huh?"

"Yes, they did. Poor souls." Percy didn't know why his mother's old expression of sympathy sprang to mind then, but it hurt.

"Poor souls," Jason echoed. "Well, I'll break the news to the others while you get some food and rest, okay? See you tomorrow, Percy."

"See you tomorrow," Percy replied. Then he turned and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Dinner could wait until breakfast, he decided. He'd had enough for one day.

**Also on my Wattpad account, under the name HopePenn. **


	2. Chapter 2

Jason investigated the scene the next day with Piper and Leo. They had been best friends since they were fourteen, and especially since Piper's dad had been kidnapped and turned by vampires when she was fifteen. Of course, Piper hadn't wanted to accept the truth back then, that monsters were real and her dad was never coming back, but Leo and Jason were there to accept it with her, and that had softened the pain just a little bit.

The crime scene was exactly how Percy and Annabeth had left it, except that the m m;0o swept away by wind and rain. But the writing was still there on the wall: N.∂.A. N.d.A. Jason knew of only one person who signed his name like that. He'd always done it, at least as long as Jason had known him. Seeing those letters there just proved it.

Jason held up his badge for the first police officer he saw and said, "Agent Smith."

The woman cracked a smile. "Officer Gretel Jones, sir. Lots of you guys passing by today, huh?"

"What do you mean?" Jason asked. Officer Jones narrowed her eyes.

"You mean he's not with you?" She pointed to a young man with black hair. Well, he certainly _looked_ like one of them, right down to his suit. But Jason wasn't _really_ FBI, and he guessed this guy wasn't either. He lingered too long at the leftover sulfur and the letters on the wall. He was a hunter, no doubt about it. Jason approached him with as much of a relaxed air as he could manage.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Agent Smith. Find anything interesting?"

The young man turned around and, for the briefest moment, Jason's heart turned to stone. He was shorter than Jason by at least four inches, with black hair and pale skin. But he wasn't him. He couldn't be. His eyes were different—dark blue like the sky at dusk. Under the collar of his shirt, Jason could see a silver necklace—a simple chain that probably had some kind of pendant at the bottom.

"You know," Jason said, leaning in a bit. "That necklace isn't regulation."

"Oh, of course," the young man laughed. He pulled the necklace off and slipped it in his pocket. "Thanks. I'm Agent Noble, by the way. James Noble."

"Smith," Jason said. "Jason Smith."

James Noble nodded, smiling a little, and pointed to the sulfur. "What do you make of that sulfur, Agent Smith?"

Jason glanced at it for just a second before saying, "Not much. Looks like whatever caused it had something to do with these murders. Your thoughts?"

James grinned. "Demon?"

"Definitely a demon."

"Oh, thank God," James sighed, relieved. "I wasn't sure you were one of us. Thought I was going to get reported or something. Any idea who this demon might be?"

"Unfortunately. An old friend of mine."

"Seriously?" James shook his head. "What kind of friends do _you_ have?"

"Just normal friends. He was a great guy before he got… Well, before he wasn't him anymore. But it was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and getting the wrong anti-possession tattoos damaged, and not having anyone around to exorcise him."

"Really? That's awful."

Jason looked at James, who seemed more sympathetic than anyone Jason had met in a long time. His eyebrows were knitted together worriedly, and he was frowning the frown of someone who was truly sorry for another person's loss. It struck Jason then how good it felt to talk about it—about the people he and his friends had lost—to a neutral, sympathetic party. But…

"I can't shove all this on you," he apologized. "And I'd better get back to Piper."

He glanced behind him, but Piper was deep in conversation with Gretel Jones. She caught his look and motioned for Gretel to wait.

"Jason, I'm going to go back to the morgue with her to take a look. Want to come with me?"

Jason shuddered. "Don't think I can, Pipes. It was him. I can't see the people my friend killed."

Piper rubbed his arm soothingly. "Sure, sweetie. I'll meet you by the car at 10:30, okay?"

"Sounds great."

As soon as she was gone, James Noble glanced at Jason with a question in his eyes. "I don't suppose you're free to get a drink?"

"I don't suppose you're offering… Are you?"

"Suppose so. Are you accepting my offer?"

"How can I refuse?"

They said their goodbyes to Gretel Jones and made their way to the nearest diner, where Jason ordered a diet coke and James ordered black coffee with two sugars. As he drank it, he fixed his eyes on Jason.

"Is this what we call going for drinks these days?"

Jason laughed and pushed the ice around in his soda. "Guess it's pretty weak, huh?"

"Not too bad. Tell me about them."

"About who?"

"The people you lost." He waved his hand dismissively before Jason could protest. "I can see it in your eyes; you need to talk about them."

"Oh…" Jason studied his hands. "Well, I lost my mother when I was seven. Vampires got her. Didn't even turn her, the sons of… Anyway, that's how I started. You?"

James shrugged. "Family business. Been doing it since I could hold a stake. Go on."

"We met up with some other kids—kids who lost their parents and guardians to monsters—and formed our own little monster fighting squad. Been doing it ever since. But we lose people. We just keep losing people. And now we've lost the two people we thought would be there forever. We got so used to them… They were always looking out for each other, so we thought they would never get lost. Brother and sister, inseparable, the sweetest people you could ever meet."

"And then?"

"And then it all went to Hell in a hand basket," Jason spat. "Bianca started hearing voices. They told her she was chosen, special somehow, and one night she was just gone. It tore Nico apart. He looked up to her. She was more of a parent than any other parent he had ever had. So he got reckless… started trying to find the thing that had taken his sister. And I guess it got him in the process."

When Jason finished his story, James took his hand across the table. "I am so, so sorry for your loss," he said. "And you'll find them. I know you will."

It wasn't until later that Jason realized there was something off about the way James had said that. It wasn't reassuring or kind; it was like he had seen the future, and the future wasn't going to be pretty.

**A/N: I know it's pretty obvious what's going on right now, but I promise I'm actually trying to make it interesting.**


End file.
